


'Tis the Damn Season

by punto_y_coma



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Christmas, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia But It's Like a 2 Instead of Their Usual 11, M/M, Making Out In Richie's Rental, New Year's Eve, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28274598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punto_y_coma/pseuds/punto_y_coma
Summary: Richie and Eddie are back in Derry for the holidays, and the road not taken is looking real good now.Canon divergent, tropey, cheesy, happy endings <3
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 12
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Taylor Swift song <3  
> The whole thing is a little outdated now but it's sweet all the same.

Eddie felt numb all over. Yeah, it was winter, in Maine, but something felt different. He was back for the holidays, like every year. He had finally gotten a job that was demanding enough that he'd have a good excuse for missing Christmas with his mother but he didn't have the heart (or the balls) to bail on her.

"Eddie, you look thin!"

"I'm not Ma, I swear I eat just fine!"

"Living on your own? I don't think so, no. Good thing you're here with me," she said squeezing his hand, Eddie had the urge to retreat from her touch but he controlled it.

"Can I help you buying groceries?" he asked, trying to get some fresh air and time away.

"Oh, would you? Thank you!"

Eddie double checked the shopping list his Mom had given him. He would do a stop at the pharmacy later; his head had been killing him ever since he had gotten to Derry.

"Eddie?!"

He turned to see a lanky, dark-haired guy, carrying two six packs of beer in one hand.

"Richie?"

"Oh, my God! It is you!" Richie beamed and brought Eddie in for a one-armed hug. "Hell! I hadn't seen you since..." Richie looked intently at Eddie, at his prim polo shirt and his tense frown.

"Since you left for LA. Yeah! How've you been, Trashmouth?" Eddie spoke almost on autopilot: a second ago he didn't remember Richie's nickname. Hell, a minute ago he didn't remember Richie at all but now it was all coming back to him. Vanilla ice cream, dick jokes, comic books, the quarry...

They didn't talk long but it felt like they did and Eddie replayed their conversation on his walk back home. Richie was home for Christmas but he would leave before New Year's. He had said something about his mother selling the house, and he had offered to buy Eddie lunch the next day to catch up. It felt so weird, though. Some part of Eddie felt very guilty that they even had to catch up at all, he had the distinct memory that they had promised to call and write, they were best friends after all... But neither he nor Richie had kept that promise.

At dinner with his mother hours later, Eddie caught himself comparing the memory of Richie eight years ago with the one he had just seen. His face looked pretty much the same, just with a bit of scruff. At seventeen he had had that stretched out and pointy look of a teenager that had grown too fast. Now, he had put on a few pounds and it agreed with him, his shoulders looked broader and overall he looked older. Well, he looked his age; they were both twenty-five... Something happened to Eddie whenever he was back in his mother's house that made him feel thirteen again. He hated it. And he hated that he would definitely have to lie to his Mom in order to meet Richie the next day.

~

"Disgusting, I hate this fucking town," Richie said, wincing as he drank a sip of the coffee he had just been served. "Can I have a milkshake, please? You want one, Eds?"

"That's not my name, and no, thank you, I'm fine without diabetes."

Richie sat back, eating fries and smiling at Eddie. "You haven't changed a thing."

Eddie flinched. "Fuck you, I have. Just not-" Eddie gestured vaguely at his face and his clothes. "I have, okay?"

"Okay," Richie nodded, looking amused. "How's New York?"

"It's okay. The traffic is horrible and the rent is ridiculous but I'm finally getting somewhere job wise, so..." Eddie shrugged and dug his fork inside his salad bowl forcefully. "How's LA?"

"Amazing, I can wear flip flops all year long. And, uh, yeah..." Richie trailed off.

"Yeah?" Eddie frowned.

"Well, everyone has a fucking agenda. All my friends-" Richie scrunched his face. Eddie didn't know if it was because he didn't like his friends or if he, like Eddie, couldn't really cope with the idea of having friends the other knew nothing about. "I feel like if I ever make it- Emphasis on 'if', okay? I know I'm not hot shit. But _if_ I made it, they would write books about it, and sell our pictures together to TMZ... You know?"

"Yeah," Eddie replied absently. In his world, it wasn't fame, it was money, promotions.

"God. One time, I went out with a guy that tried to make me read his script _while_ we were fucking!" Richie grimaced and reached across the table for ketchup. When he looked up from his hamburger, Eddie was staring. "What?"

"A guy?" Eddie asked, trying to sound as calm as he possibly could.

"Right, shit! I forgot that you didn't know," Richie covered his mouth. He looked kind of lost for a second as he chose his words. "Ummm, yeah. I like both. Been going out with guys mostly lately," he bit the inside of his cheek pensively. "It's not a big deal in LA, so," he shrugged, and forced a smile.

"No! Of course it's not a big deal, it's just- I had no idea," Eddie replied quietly, there was something heavy pressing on his chest. "Did you-? How long-?" he wasn't sure what he was asking... Did he like boys when they were kids? How long had he lied to Eddie about it? And why?

It seemed like Richie was used to answering at least some of those questions.

"I've known since like- fifth grade? I was that small-town, miserable, closeted boy. A fucking stereotype," Richie said it like it was an insult someone had thrown at him and he had decided to make into a joke, add it to his armor of self-deprecation, like old Richie had been nothing - a balled up photograph, something stupid and meaningless, and Eddie wanted to fucking scream.

"You should have said something."

"Would it have made a difference?" Richie didn't sound bitter, in fact, he looked amused.

Eddie thought about it. They had both broken free of the suffocating weight of Derry being all they knew, of small-minded people ruling their world, of Eddie's mother breathing down his neck at every step of the way. Richie had stopped being so scared. And Eddie had stopped hating himself so much.

If all that had happened earlier, when they were actually close and knew each other well, when they were younger and had time to figure things out... Maybe it would have made Richie feel less alone and less of a freak. Though, now that Eddie knew about it and the fact that they could do nothing to change the past, it made him feel small and powerless.

"I guess you're right," Eddie conceded eventually. He popped an ibuprofen from his pocket and downed it with coffee.

"You okay?" Richie asked, his expression softening somewhat.

"Yeah, fine, I've just had these migraines... Probably that Derry water magic that makes coffee taste like shit," Eddie said with a grimace.

"Maybe that's what making me so jittery," Richie pondered.

"You've always been like this, Rich," Eddie quipped.

"Oh, fuck you."

"Fuck you!" Eddie said without much bite. He looked at Richie's hands which were, in fact, shaking. "For real, though, what's wrong?"

"I'm just having those Vietnam war flashbacks, ya know? The other day, I dreamt of some bully with a clown mask chasing me around town..." Richie tried to downplay it, with jazz hands and a silly voice. "Just fucking nonsense- It doesn't matter really, I'm not staying long enough to figure it out."

"When are you leaving?"

"On the 29th; I've got to finish packing up my stuff and then hand over the keys. The folks have decided I'm old enough for that, so they can go ahead and start settling in Santa Fe while I rot in this hellhole," Richie sounded very bitter about it. "Anyway, if you get sick of your mother's high-pitched screams you can come hang out."

"Thank you, dickwad," Eddie said and threw a napkin at his face.

~

Christmas was a shit show. Eddie had expected as much but Sonya Kaspbrak had gotten progressively worse with age, more stubborn in her ways, more suggestible about possible diseases she could have. Or that Eddie could have. In the duration of his stay, she had diagnosed Eddie with dozens of illnesses already. And he had diagnosed her with early onset dementia, loudly. They had screamed at each other until she got tired and started crying instead; she had almost guilted Eddie into staying with her until mid-January. Almost. He had finally appeased her enough so that she would go to bed.

There was something decidedly nostalgic about Eddie picking up the landline phone of his house late at night, a good half an hour after his mother had gone to bed, and dialing Richie's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Eddie said quietly.

"Eddie?" Richie sounded groggy with sleep or alcohol.

"Yeah. Were you serious about the invitation to your parents' house?"

"I mean, yeah? The house is practically empty and honestly pretty fucking depressing to be in but yeah," Richie sounded confused and definitely drunk.

"Can I come over?" Eddie didn't want to sound needy but his non-refundable flight was until the day after New Year's and he wasn't sure he could cope with being alone for that long.

"What, now?" Richie sounded surprised.

"Tomorrow?"

~

"Eds!" Richie opened the door, almost jumping in his excitement. Then, he saw the suitcase behind Eddie. "Those Christmas presents?"

"For you? I think the fuck not," Eddie pushed past Richie and fell on the ratty couch, the only piece of furniture that was still in the living room. "You were right."

"Weird," Richie scrunched his face. "About what?"

"My Mom. You'd think she would have softened with age," Eddie let out a long sigh.

"You know that 'softening with age' thing is bullshit, right? Cheese? Bread? Bad parents?" Richie mocked with air quotes and big hand gestures.

"Yeah.”

"Beer?" Richie offered, his head already inside the fridge.

"It's eleven in the morning," Eddie groaned.

"So?"

"Right," Eddie sighed and buried his head in his hands. "Why the hell not?"

~

"So Rachel was after Patrick but before Matt..." Richie explained, lining up bottle caps to symbolize each one of his exes; there were seven of them so far.

"Richie, I only asked if you were seeing someone right now," Eddie scrunched his face. "If I wanted to get the play by play of your dick's US tour, I would have fucking asked."

"Well, I'm balancing you out," Richie shrugged. "Going out on _one_ date with a woman named Myra is the most unexciting shit I've ever heard."

"Fuck you, you manwhore," Eddie spat and threw Richie's bottle caps off the makeshift, cardboard table with a swipe of his hand.

"Fuck _youuu_ ," Richie replied in a sing-songy voice. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you are jealous, Eds."

"Of what?" Eddie asked sarcastically, he was being pretty defensive and almost downright mean but Richie could take it, he always had. "Your hilarious impressions? Your impeccable sense of fashion? Wait, I got it. Your hairy ass?"

"It's not that hairy," Richie let it slide easily. He turned to Eddie with a smirk, one Eddie hadn't seen. "And, since you did ask, I'm not seeing anyone at the moment."

Eddie cocked his head and furrowed his brow. He could only imagine that Richie was trying to be flirtatious but he couldn't figure out why. His insides felt bubbly with alcohol but his head felt heavy and much too aware of everything. He had flashes of Richie calling him cute and pinching his cheek; then, years later, Richie trash-talking about some girl he had made out with, some crass remarks about how clueless she was and her lack of experience...

"You're drunk, Rich," he said in the end.

"I'm not that drunk," Richie kept his smirk on for a minute or two.

"Right." To Eddie everything felt like a big joke, like Richie was making fun of him in some twisted way. "I think I'm going to go for a walk."

~

Eddie was careful to avoid the main street, the pharmacy, and his block; Sonya Kaspbrak was under the impression that Eddie was back in New York for a work emergency. He ended up at the quarry, alone, the cold air chilling him to the bone.

Eddie had loved summertime as a kid, it meant time swimming, playing, eating ice cream - time away from his Mom. Derry in the winter felt like the complete opposite, like a house arrest. It smelled like cinnamon and apple and cough syrup, but it felt like a smothering hug, a blanket that was too heavy, getting a raging fever and having weird, white dreams. He would always get cabin fever but he never lashed out on his mother. Well, until now.

He walked back to Richie's house when it got too cold to be out. The door was unlocked and he left his muddy shoes by the door. He found Richie in the kitchen making grilled cheese.

"Want one?" Richie offered.

"Sure."

"I'm sorry about earlier, I-" Richie started.

"Forget about it. It's not-" Eddie interrupted with a soft voice. "Forget it."

"Okay."

They ate in silence. Richie downed a couple of more beers.

"You always drink this much?" Eddie asked.

"No. Sometimes I drink more," Richie said. It wasn't a joke, Eddie could tell. "It doesn't help, being here. The whole permanent panic thing - I haven't been sleeping well."

Eddie nodded. "For me it's the quiet. It creeps me out," he admitted.

"Can't help you there," Richie took a huge bite out of his sandwich. "No TV, no stereo, not even a fucking hair dryer."

"We could go catch a movie, my treat," Eddie said.

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

~

It was late at night when they got back. Eddie had thought at some point in his childhood that Richie's house was haunted; something about the slamming doors and the breaking of glass that he had heard or imagined by the bits and pieces Richie had told him about his parents' fights.

Well, if it hadn't been haunted then, it was definitely haunted now. All the empty spaces seemed to scream and Eddie hurried up the stairs to Richie's room.

It wasn't any better. Richie had almost finished putting everything into a few boxes. It felt like seeing their tree house bulldozed to the ground. Not that they had one to begin with but-

"You're almost done packing," Eddie stated the obvious.

"Yeah, thank fuck," Richie threw himself on the bed, the only thing that remained standing. "I had way too much shit, threw away most of it."

"Really?" it came out a little sad. It was stupid but Eddie had hoped he'd be allowed to keep something, that he would be able to look through Richie's things.

"Most of it was trash anyway," Richie dismissed it easily. He yawned. "I might actually be able to get some sleep tonight."

"That's good," Eddie said. "I guess I'll-" he gestured towards the main bedroom and started walking in that direction.

"I mean, yeah, if you like sleeping on the floor," Richie hollered from his room.

Eddie turned the lights on and, sure enough, there was nothing there. He returned to where Richie was.

"I'll just sleep on the couch."

"Eds, we can share the bed. We did it all the time as kids."

"Yeah, but you're like seven feet tall now..."

"Look," Richie sat up, and put on his most condescendingly patient voice. "I know you expected a four stars B&B but what we have is a fridge, a stove, one working bathroom, a couch, a bed, three blankets total and a bunch of cardboard boxes. If you want to sleep on the couch, be my guest, but I'm not giving up a single one of these blankets. You can build a small fire or use the bubble wrap as a duvet, I don't fucking care."

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek. Why was he being so fucking difficult?

"Fine. But I'm sleeping on the left side," he said.

"Because there are monsters on the right side, I know," Richie replied.

Neither of them knew the exact moment when that had been said but it sounded very familiar. It was a sensation that had been constant for Eddie ever since he had met Richie on the street. He was sure they both had had other friends apart from each other but they were faceless and nameless in Eddie's memory, the only thing that was recognizable was Richie's face and it got clearer and clearer as they spent more time together. There had been many sleepovers and that certainty made Eddie more comfortable as Richie turned off the lights and slipped under the covers next to him.

"G'night, Eddie."

"Goodnight."

~

They slept in late. Eddie was the early bird and Richie was the night owl, always. But Derry had kept them on their toes, aware of their parents, scared of some intangible threat... When Eddie finally opened his eyes it was bright out, probably past noon. Richie stretched and yawned and his hand slapped over Eddie's face.

"What the fuck?" Eddie mumbled against Richie's wrist.

"Oh, sorry!" Richie rolled over, his eyes squinting to see Eddie.

"Morning," Eddie huffed. His hair was messy, not quite as much as Richie's, but it was amusing to his friend all the same.

"You look pretty in the morning, Eds," Richie cooed.

"Ugh!" Eddie threw a pillow in Richie's direction.

"Wanna have lunch at the diner?" Richie asked.

"Sure."

~

It felt a little surreal, like a holiday within a holiday, to be with Richie. They ate pancakes at the diner and talked. They walked around town saying _'Remember this?'_ and _'Remember that?'_. They took Richie's rental and drove to a parking lot that looked over the quarry. Richie kept the heating and the radio on.

"It might snow tonight," Richie commented conversationally.

"God, I hope not," Eddie leaned forward on the dashboard and studied the gray clouds that painted the sky.

"Why?"

Eddie thought about it. Whenever it had snowed, back in New York, it meant traffic, muddy streets and wet shoes. But he didn't have to worry about getting anywhere on time while he was with in Derry with Richie.

"Dunno," Eddie said honestly.

There was a long silence, the car's radio was playing eighties hits, and the wind was blowing around the car.

"Did you know this is where the high schoolers would come to make out?" Richie blurted out.

"Uh, I suppose I heard about it," Eddie replied. One of their friends must have mentioned it back then. Looking at it now, it felt a lot less like a romantic nook and more like a secluded spot to commit a murder. Not that Eddie was bitter about having no recollection of the place other than hearsay. Eddie had felt lonely and broken back then, and had assumed that he was the only one that felt that way until Richie had told him...

"Did you ever come here? With a guy?" Eddie asked.

"Nah, I was too fucking scared," Richie replied, staring straight ahead. "I thought about it. There was a boy that seemed like he- Well, maybe I imagined it but-" he pursed his lips. "I never had the balls to ask. And I missed out on it. Being a horny teenager fogging up a car," he finished doing a voice to make it seem unimportant.

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek. His heart was beating inside his throat like his body knew what he was about to do before he even thought about it. What if he could do something to fix Richie's sadness in some time-travel, cyclical, fucked up way? Eddie didn't like boys that way but he didn't really like anyone that way when it came to it, if he was honest. And there was no harm in a kiss. They were friends after all.

"Richie?" he called softly.

"What?" he didn't turn.

"I lied," Eddie said.

"About?"

When Richie faced him, there was a hint of weariness to his features; he was older than Eddie had ever seen him.

"I said I didn't have a Christmas present for you but I do."

It sounded corny even as Eddie was saying it but it was the season for that kind of bullshit and Richie deserved some happiness for a change.

"Really?" Richie looked equal parts excited and suspicious.

"Yeah, close your eyes."

Richie obeyed but added: "If it's a stuffed toad, I swear you'll sleep in the backyard."

Eddie took a deep breath and shuffled in his seat, half-kneeling to reach across the gear shift. Richie bobbed his head impatiently and something about it felt endearing to Eddie. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Richie's, softly.

_One, two, three, four, five._

It was nice, nicer than most of the kisses Eddie had been involved in. It made sense - he already cared for Richie. Eddie sat back with a sigh and turned to look at Richie, he had his eyes still closed and his brow furrowed.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Richie said all of a sudden.

Eddie panicked. "Shit. Sorry! I- I thought I-"

"What? Why?!"

"I didn't think you'd be mad, I just wanted to-" Eddie couldn't phrase it without it sounding like he had taken pity on Richie. He hadn't. They had both missed out on shit and Eddie knew how that hurt and he had tried to fix it... But 'fixing' implied something had been wrong in the first place. Richie wasn't messed up, the world was. It felt like Eddie apologizing on behalf of Derry or something... But, again, Eddie wasn't doing it for their God forsaken town, he was doing it for Richie.

"I'm not mad," Richie interrupted his spiral of thought. "I just- You were the boy, Eddie! Do you know how long I thought about it? Back then? How fucking long I spent thinking about how I'd kiss you if I ever got the chance?"

"What? I didn't-" Eddie shook his head. "How could I-?"

"I tried to tell you. I felt I was being so fucking obvious," Richie ran a hand over his face, embarrassed.

Eddie scrunched his face, remembering. Richie had always favored him but it felt fair since Eddie was the one that got to deal with most of Richie's annoying banter. Objectively, though, it meant that most of his efforts were spent on Eddie, on irritating then appeasing him, on making him smile as much as he could. There had been also those weird moments, lost in time, when Richie would look at Eddie like he missed him even though they were in the same room. It was that or he'd be spaced out, fixated on some random spot, like Eddie's neck or his forearm or his crotch that one time... Even the mom jokes felt like they were Richie's twisted way of lashing out against Eddie's Mom for hurting him. And Eddie couldn't really pinpoint a moment when they had been at risk but deep inside he knew he could trust Richie with his life, always, completely.

"Fuck, Richie... I'm so sorry," Eddie didn't know what else to say. He felt so dumb.

"It's not your fault," Richie sounded sincere if a little sad. "And this was nice, definitely, I'll treasure the memory for years to come but- I don't know what the purpose of the whole thing was, to begin with so that's confusing the fuck out of-"

"It was just a kiss," Eddie interrupted him. "I don't want to go steady or get married. No strings attached, no evil plan."

"Right! No, I didn't mean that like- What I was wondering is if- I know you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth or however that fucking saying goes- I would have been better at it, I think, if I knew it was coming, you know?" Richie rambled.

Eddie smiled despite himself, this felt exactly like Richie when he was a kid, the way he talked his way in and out of trouble...

"Just spit it out, Rich," it sounded exasperated and fond, familiar and warm.

"If I could have a go, I would like that, unless you don't want to," Richie said in the end, embarrassed like it was a childish thing to ask for.

Eddie thought about it, why he had decided to do it in the first place, and how heartbroken he had felt when they had talked at the diner. It all had been for Richie, to make him happy. But he couldn't tell him that, his head was big enough as it was.

"We have to check the receipt but it’s fine by me," Eddie conceded, knowing that he was being cheesy again.

"You fucking dork!" Richie cackled. Eddie laughed with him.

As soon as they got quiet, the atmosphere in the car got charged. Richie reached out, one hand running through the hair at Eddie's temple, the other cupping his cheek. Eddie could feel the way that Richie gazed at his eyes and lips, moving closer but not closing the gap between them yet, lingering there for a little bit. Richie took a deep breath, one that Eddie felt like it came from his own lungs... Then, he dragged Eddie from the back of his neck, the press of Richie's lips eager, his breath hot, and his hands everywhere. It made Eddie dizzy; his stomach flipped with every tilt of the head, every flick of the tongue, every soft caress to the nape of his neck.

When Richie moved away, Eddie leaned forward to follow him. He opened his eyes and realized that he was clutching Richie's collar forcefully.

"I got carried away there," Richie apologized breathily. "Thank you."

Eddie had almost forgotten the whole "Christmas gift" thing. The only thing that mattered was that Richie was taking his hands off him and that he couldn't let that happen. So he pulled Richie and kissed him again, less afraid, more hungry. He ran his fingers through Richie's hair, pulling on it a little, gasping when that made him moan. It electrified Eddie like no other sound.

"Fuck," he hummed against Richie's lips, feeling like the goddamned gear shift was keeping them miles away. He did the math quickly and decided to drag Richie to his own seat, then straddle him. The whole thing was a mess of knees bumping on the dashboard and heads hitting the roof of the car.

"I'm getting the whole experience," Richie complained, laughing, rubbing the top of his head with one hand and holding Eddie's waist with the other.

"Sorry," Eddie chuckled, grinding lightly on Richie's hips. He had no idea what he was doing but Richie seemed to like it.

"Oh, fucking hell," Richie groaned, his eyes going white for a moment. His hands roamed under Eddie's shirt, and he wanted to take it off, take it all off, but it was very fucking cold and getting colder so he didn't. Instead, Richie focused his attention on Eddie's neck, nibbling at it, licking at his Adam's apple, kissing his jaw, as Eddie kept rubbing against him. "You're gonna make me come on my nice pants, you idiot!"

Eddie laughed and leaned down to kiss Richie, messy, starved of whatever he had that Eddie had been missing all that time.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," Richie said, pushing up to get more friction.

"Hey, look at me," Eddie told him, pushing their foreheads together, matching his rhythm, trying to make out Richie's eyes under his fogged up glasses. "Holy fuck..." he managed to say before he lost it, groaning and then melting on Richie's lap.

"So... Was all that part of the gift or...?" Richie asked, smirking, when their breaths finally settled.

Eddie looked up at him. "I would murder you if I didn't want to fuck you so bad."

Richie perked up. "Oh?"

"Don't look so fucking cocky about it," Eddie huffed. "Buy me some dinner first."

~

The drive back to Richie's from the Chinese restaurant was full of anticipation; Richie kept grabbing at Eddie's thigh as he drove and he dropped the keys a couple of times when he tried to open the door. Once they were inside, Eddie pushed Richie against the door, kissing him hard, taking his jacket off desperately.

"Up, let's go up," Richie managed to say between kisses. "You're not fucking me on this grossass carpet. I'll never hear the end of it when you come to your senses."

Eddie slapped his chest but obeyed, dragging him up the stairs. Eddie started taking his clothes off and helping Richie to do the same; it was messy and exciting. When they were both in their boxers, Eddie pushed Richie down on the mattress to straddle him again. Then it hit him. He didn't know what he was supposed to do next.

"Hey, Eds, everything alright?" Richie asked, running a finger up and down his spine.

"Yeah, just-" Eddie couldn't even look at him. "What would you like me to-? I mean, how do you-?"

"Oh!"

Eddie had expected to be made fun of but Richie smiled warmly and in that moment it hit Eddie how much he actually liked Richie, not just because he wanted to kiss him but because he was funny and kind.

"Do you wanna go over the menu, see what you like?" Richie asked whimsically.

Eddie nodded with a shy smile.

"Okay, so we have hand jobs," Richie stopped holding Eddie to free his hands to number and explain everything in lewd gestures, "very straightforward, hand on dick, done. Then, my favorite to give and receive, blow jobs, mouth on dick, a little more labor intensive but worth the effort. There's also butt stuff, you know, fingers, dick, mouth..."

"Mouth?" Eddie widened his eyes.

"Eating ass, yeah," Richie seemed to be tickled by how outraged Eddie looked. "I'm like 93.5% sure you'd love it but we don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"Right. Gimme a minute," Eddie covered his face with his hands. It was a little overwhelming. Six hours ago he was sure he didn't like men at all and now he was naked with his best friend thinking about maybe eating his ass - probably not eating his ass - but possibly sucking his dick?

"Eds?" Richie sounded worried.

"I'm fine, I swear, just processing," he mumbled. He had been so caught up on wanting Richie that he hadn't stopped to actually think about the mechanics of it. He had the hunger for it, his mouth had literally started watering at the thought of Richie's dick but he had to get over himself first. "I'll fuck you in a second, don't go anywhere."

Richie laughed heartily. "How about we take a shower and call it a day, bud?"

"I guess," Eddie sighed crestfallen.

"You can go first," Richie offered, kissing his shoulder, then his cheek. In a way, it felt like Richie had already gotten way more than he had ever expected so there was no way to disappoint him; Eddie found it incredibly sweet but also super annoying.

"No, you go," Eddie replied, getting off his lap.

Richie gave him one last lingering kiss before he left. Eddie remained there, sitting, hearing the water running. At some point he started imagining Richie in there, naked... Eddie walked into the bathroom with newfound determination just as the water stopped.

"Eddie? You okay?" Richie asked as he was toweling his hair dry.

"Yeah."

Eddie ran up to Richie and kissed him hard. They pushed each other around the tiny bathroom, biting on lips and grabbing at skin but this time when it turned heated Eddie didn't freeze.

"Is that okay?" he asked after a while. Richie had been a little too quiet and it was worrying Eddie. He had both of his hands on Richie, his mouth leaving kisses on his temple, his jaw, his neck.

"Shhh! I'm concentrating!" Richie said with hitched breath.

"On?"

"Making it last."

Oh.

Once it was clear that he wasn't terrible at it, Eddie started to have fun, pulling on Richie's hair, mumbling the most explicit shit into his ear, kissing him hungrily. It didn't take long.

"You know," Richie said, running his fingers through Eddie's hair, soothing as he catched his breath, "for someone who just had an anxiety attack, you're pretty good at this."


	2. Chapter 2

"Eds."

Richie's voice woke him up, closer than he expected it, followed by kisses on his temple and cheek. Eddie hummed in delight while the reality of what had happened the day before sunk in; it felt like a whole month packed into a day, what with the love confessions, the dry humping and the hand jobs...

He squinted at the morning light; Richie was up on his elbows and looking at his face with a goofy smile.

"Were you watching me sleep, you creep?" Eddie mumbled, rolling to his other side.

"Just for a little while. You frown even in your sleep, you know that?"

"How would I know that?" Eddie turned to face him. "Why'd you wake me?"

"I'm hungry," Richie bit into the flesh of his bicep playfully. "And we have like ten minutes to get to the diner and make use of this handy-dandy coupon," he produced it from underneath his pillow of all places, "and get all the pancakes we can eat."

"Pancakes, again?"

Eddie was about to say that he wasn't hungry and ask Richie to kindly fuck off but his stomach grumbled. He sighed, accepting defeat.

"Okay, then!" Richie declared excitedly, jumping from the bed and throwing a hoodie on. "Let's go, Eduardo, vámonos!"

"Shit, where's my shirt?" Eddie looked around the room.

"Take this, come on!"

Before Eddie knew it, he was dressed in Richie's clothes, running down Derry's main street. He had thought that the day before had been surreal but now he was sitting across from at Richie, with his bed head and zealous smile, bumping knees under the table, flirting but not really, giddy with excitement and riding the sugar high of eating a metric shit ton of pancakes.

~

They didn't leave the house much. It didn't feel like they needed to, not when there was still so much to discover about each other. The Tozier house, previously graveyard quiet, was now full with the sound of laughter and kissing.

Eddie clicked his tongue, his right hand tracing a sinuous path following the hair on Richie's belly.

"Would you teach me?" he asked, while they rested, half-naked, their heads on each other's legs. "How to fuck you?"

"God, if that ain't the hottest shit I've heard all day!" Richie growled, intertwining their fingers, pulling on Eddie's hand to kiss his palm. He seemed devoted to it, to the way it could make him come undone. "Luckily for you, I brought my survival kit with me," he added proudly.

Richie's survival kit consisted of a spare tooth brush, condoms, lube, and a couple of band-aids, which, of course, was hilarious to Eddie.

Slowly, Richie guided Eddie around his body, tracing a map for him to follow.

"There?"

"Yeah, right there."

Weirdly enough, it was the places that Richie didn't mention that Eddie found the most beautiful: the freckles on his back, the dimples on the base of his spine, the long fingers of his hand as it reached back to touch Eddie's thigh.

"Is that okay?"

"Yes..." Richie let out a hiss. "A little faster. Yeah."

"Wait, hold on," Eddie bent up a leg and paused for a moment. "Cramp, I'm sorry." Richie wheezed under him. "It's not funny!"

"Of course it is, Eds!" Richie contradicted him, laughing until Eddie finally joined in.

"What else do you want me to do?" Eddie asked, a little more relaxed than at the beginning.

"Can you pin me down?"

"Like we're wrestling?" Eddie tilted his head confused.

"Exactly like that."

Eddie could almost hear Richie's smirk and he knew he wasn't the only one that remembered a couple of instances in which they were wrestling each other as teens, only half in earnest, and the fights had ended with Richie's face dangerously close to his own, gasping for air, the space between them electric. Eddie should have known back then but he was too afraid of everything, of being made fun of, of being happy even... And they had never said it outright, that Eddie trusted Richie with his life and the other way around, but it was there as soon as Eddie hovered over Richie, pinning his forearms down, thrusting harder and harder.

"I think I've wanted this for such a long time," Eddie whispered in Richie's ear. "Wanted you for such a long time."

"Oh, fuck!" Richie squirmed under him as Eddie's rhythm grew faster and desperate. "Say it again, please, s- say it again."

"I've wanted you all this time, Rich, I want you so bad," Eddie went on until Richie let out a groan that left them shaking on the mattress.

~

"Do you really have to leave tomorrow?"

Eddie hated saying things like that and coming off as clingy but since Richie was shirtless and leaning on his chest like it was a pillow... He decided he might as well.

"Kind of," Richie said between bites of crust dipped in marinara; they had ordered pizza. "I'm sending my boxes ahead of me, my flight's booked, and the real state lady is coming for the keys at two."

"You're kicking me out?" Eddie joked.

"Definitely, worst house guest ever," Richie replied with his mouth full. "Eating on the bed, wearing my clothes, paying me with sex? Ugh!"

"You make me sound like such a whore," Eddie didn't even sound angry.

"You love it, Eddie darling."

Eddie wheezed. "So if I'm 'Eddie darling' that makes you...?"

"Dunno," Richie shrugged, "you have to give me the nickname."

"Mmm," Eddie pondered as he chewed a particularly big bite of peperoni. "I've never been good with nicknames, that's always been you."

"Try."

"Uh- Babe?" Eddie said, unsure.

"God, you're hopeless," Richie let out a long suffering sigh and leaned even deeper into Eddie. "Fine. 'Babe’ it is."

Eddie smiled satisfied.

~

While Richie was collecting the precious few things left in the house, Eddie looked through the boxes he was taking to California with him. There were some old comic books and records, a small selection of clothes that still fit him, an old pair of glasses, a pocket knife... Eddie had never actually held it, too scared of cutting himself and getting tetanus or something; so it felt rebellious and almost exhilarating to open it and yield it with his right hand, testing the dull edge against his index finger.

"Shit!"

The edge wasn't so dull after all and now he was bleeding over Richie's carpet.

"Everything okay?" Richie called from the hallway.

"I just cut myself," Eddie replied calmly but Richie came running to crouch next to him anyway.

"Let me see," Richie grabbed Eddie's hand, his index finger pouring blood on the rest and making it seem way worse than it actually was. "Shit."

Before either of them could think about what the other was doing, Richie sucked on the tip of Eddie's finger, cleaning it up to see the cut more clearly. It was what Richie would have done if it was his own finger but it wasn't, and they both realized it at once; Eddie gasped.

"I didn't mean to- I wasn't thinking-" Richie stood up. "I'll fix it."

After a couple of seconds of running it under water, Richie washed Eddie's hand with soap. As he dried it up and opened a band-aid to secure everything he said:

"I got tested like a month ago and I haven't- You know-" he sighed. "I talk big game but I haven't been with anyone until you-" he looked up at Eddie at last. "I just wanted you to know there's nothing to be worried about."

Eddie smiled softly. "Thank you." He then stood on his tiptoes and kissed Richie long and slow.

It was late afternoon. It felt like their time together was coming to an end and Eddie didn't want to let any of it go to waste. Quickly, their kiss turned heated and the next thing Eddie knew was that Richie was kissing his way down his body then kneeling in front of him.

"What are you doing?" Eddie asked.

"I lost a contact," Richie quipped, grabbing at Eddie's sides and hips.

"No, I know, you d-" Eddie sighed exasperated. He tilted Richie's head up by the chin. "You're going to fuck up your knees on the floor tiles."

"Oh, Eds, I can't decide if that's the sweetest or the unsexiest thing I've ever heard," Richie smiled as he got up. "Bed?"

Richie led him by the hips, pushed him on the mattress, hovered above him, nibbling hungrily at his neck.

"Do something," Eddie practically begged into Richie's ear. "Anything you want, please."

Eddie didn't know why it seemed so urgent, so final; he wanted to be left with hickies or bite marks or scratches, something - anything that would remind him of Richie wanting him so fucking much. He wanted the memory of it to sustain him while he was trapped in his tediously cutthroat job and whatever suffocating relationship he'd end up in.

"You sure?" Richie asked, his touch somewhere between careful and eager.

"Pretty fucking sure, babe," he said the pet name almost as a joke but it felt nice and right and if Richie's shit-eating grin was anything to go by, he wasn't the only one who liked it.

Richie left messy kisses as he crawled down Eddie's body, his scruff tickling everywhere, his hands pressing on nerve endings Eddie didn't know he had. When he reached Eddie's navel, he calmed down, kissing and licking agonizingly slow as he descended. Eddie cursed under his breath, dragging his fingers through Richie's hair, scratching at his scalp. Richie was holding on to him by the hips, every moan and movement made Eddie lose his mind a little. He realized this was why people ruined marriages and broke families over sex, because it could be this good. The only thing that Richie was ruining was Eddie, though, he was ruined for anyone else.

"Holy sh-!" Eddie groaned. "I'm gonna-" Eddie expected Richie to let go immediately, when he didn't, he pulled on his hair. Richie merely hummed in agreement, keeping a steady rhythm, squeezing his thighs and ass. "Oh, fuck!"

Everything became red, hot, pulsing... When he opened his eyes Richie was looking up to him from the nook he had claimed between his thighs, his sternum shiny with sweat and-

"How are we feeling?" Richie asked, kissing the inside of his thighs. Eddie noticed him discreetly wiping off his chest with one of their discarded t-shirts, Eddie found the whole thing weirdly endearing.

"Pretty good," Eddie replied eventually. "Come here," he added drawing Richie in for a breathless kiss. They both were sweaty and exhausted, the touch of their lips kept slowing down until they were merely exchanging pecks while Richie drew pictures on Eddie's back with his middle finger, lulling each other to sleep. Eddie glanced at his watch as it went from midnight to the first minute of December 29th.

~

"Babe."

Eddie's voice was soft as he eased into the morning light. Though it wasn't morning, was it? They just kept sleeping in til noon like they were teenagers again. He would have trouble going back to his cold bed in New York now that he knew what it felt like to wake up with Richie's legs intertwined with his.

"Hmm?"

"It's late," it pained Eddie even as he said it.

"I'm not leaving this bed," Richie grumbled, bringing him closer to snuggle. Eddie returned the hug; he could ask Richie to stay, but he had promised himself he wouldn't.

"I'm not paying for a new flight for you; I'm not old enough to be your sugar daddy just yet."

Richie let out an amused chuckle. "I'll look you up in a few years," he ran his hands through Eddie's hair, soft from the lack of gel.

Eddie looked up, Richie had a flirty smile on; it was fake, though.

"Don't."

"What? I might!"

Eddie tilted his head with disbelief. "It's hard enough without you lying to me like that, dickwad."

"What happened to 'babe' and 'darling'?!" The tension built; Richie's mock outrage was doing nothing for Eddie's nerves. "Okay, okay," Richie allowed the happy facade to melt a little. He kissed Eddie again and again, and they both pretended that the taste of salt was sweat instead of tears.

~

Eddie drove Richie to the airport spectacularly late, their goodbye cut short enough that it was almost painless.

"Call me when you get there," Eddie ordered.

"Yes, _Daddy_ ," Richie replied as he climbed out of the car, so quick that he almost didn't hear Eddie screaming: "Asshole!"

Eddie stayed at a motel near the airport. No use going back to Derry just to keep avoiding his Mom and spend four days holed up inside the Town House, he reasoned, and he was sure there were more pathetic ways of celebrating New Year's than eating from a vending machine and sleeping at a reasonable hour.

~

The loud hum of his phone woke Eddie up.

"Hrmpfh- Hello?"

"Eds?" a distinctively nasal voice asked.

"Richie?" Eddie perked up immediately at the sound of a siren distantly blaring down the phone. "You okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm fine. Sorry to wake you..." Richie stalled. An ambulance passed by Eddie's apartment then too, which was ominous as fuck but not that weird; Myra had gotten the apartment in the divorce and his bachelor pad was, well, a bachelor pad. "I was just thinking... Since you live in New York and all... Can I come over? For New Year's? I'd like to see the ball drop and shit."

"Uh- Sure," Eddie ran his hand over his face. "Could this have waited til tomorrow, maybe? It's like fuck o'clock in the morning," he added without checking.

"See, the thing is I'm here already, so if you could let me in that would be great because I'm sure I've already lost a couple of toes to frostbite."

"You- What in the-?"

His doorbell rang just then. Oh.

Eddie had been having a recurring dream after Derry part two. It didn't exactly feel like dream, it felt like a downright hallucination - specific, detailed. In that sense, it could pass as the clown playing games on his middle-aged mind - a weekend together canoodling with Richie seemed like the kind of fucked up shit Pennywise would have cooked up for them for shits and giggles: make them feel happy and safe then tear them apart in the most painful way possible... The strange thing was that the dream didn't have a scary ending, or even a tragic one, it ended in a bittersweet goodbye - like real life often did. Eddie had found himself wondering if it wasn't a dream but a memory, and the one person who would know was standing right before him, waltzing in with a duffle bag and a dumbass smile.

"Hey."

"Hey," Eddie's heart skipped a beat. "Those Christmas presents?" he asked carefully.

"For you? I think the fuck not," Richie replied with a fondness that didn't match the words at all. Immediately, he dropped his bag on the floor lunged forward to cup Eddie's face.

They had been so damn close to dying and then they hadn't. Somehow. But this, Richie holding him was the closest Eddie had felt to _living_ in months, years. Eddie held on to that, grabbed fistfuls of Richie's new leather jacket.

"Sorry I didn't call you when I got to LA," Richie apologized, his thumb running over Eddie's cheek, caressing his scar.

"It's fine, babe," Eddie replied and Richie's eyes crinkled; he was older than Eddie had ever seen him but that was a good thing, it meant they had survived. "You can stay over, eat on the bed, pay me with sex... And we can call it even."

Eddie didn't know if it was Richie or the damn season but he kept saying the cheesiest shit.

"You're still a dork, you know that, right?" Richie asked, getting closer to kiss Eddie's smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love <3  
> 


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